CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
JOE CORNEY'S ADVICE.
Wending his way through the crowded streets, Joe soon reached the doorof the house in Russell Square which belonged to Mrs Denman.
The good lady had made use of a cab after quitting Miss Deemas, so thatshe was at home and seated in a luxuriously easy chair in her splendidlyfurnished drawing-room when the fireman applied the knocker.
"Does Mrs Denman stop here, my dear?" said Joe to the smartservant-girl who opened the door.
"Yes," replied the girl, "and she told me to show you up to thedrawing-room whenever you came. Step this way."
Joe pulled off his cap and followed the maid, who ushered him into thepresence of the little old lady.
"Pray take a chair," said Mrs Denman, pointing to one which hadevidently been placed close to hers on purpose. "You are a fireman, Iunderstand?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied Joe, "I've bin more nor tin years at the businessnow."
"You must find it a very warm business, I should imagine," said MrsDenman, with a smile.
"True for ye, ma'am. My body's bin a'most burnt off my sowl over andover again; but it's cowld enough, too, sometimes, specially when ye'vegot to watch the premises after the fire's bin put out of a cowld winternight, as I had to do at _your_ house, ma'am."
Mrs Denman started and turned pale.
"What! d'you mean to say that you were at the fire in--in Holborn thatnight?"
"Indeed I do, ma'am. Och! but ye must be ill, ma'am, for yer face is aswhite as a ghost. Shure but it's _red_ now. Let me shout for somewather for ye, ma'am."
"No, no, my good man," said Mrs Denman, recovering herself a little."I--I--the fact is, it did not occur to me that you had been at _that_fire, else I would never--but no matter. You didn't see--see--any onesaved, did you?"
"See any one saved, is it? Shure, I did, an' yerself among the lot.Och! but it's Frank Willders as knows how to do a thing nately. Hebrought ye out o' the windy, ma'am, on his showlder as handy as if ye'dbin a carpet-bag, or a porkmanty, ma'am--"
"Hush, _man_!" exclaimed poor Mrs Denman, blushing scarlet, for she wasa very sensitive old lady; "I cannot bear to think of it. But howcould--you know it was me? _It--it--might_ have been anything--abundle, you know."
"Not by no manes," replied the candid Joe. "We seed your shape quiteplain, ma'am, for the blankit was tight round ye."
Mrs Denman covered her face with her hand at this point, and restingher elbow on the arm of her chair, reflected that the thing was beyondremedy, and that, as the man had come and was now looking at her,matters could not be worse; so she resolved to carry out her originalintention, and question him as to the best course of action in the eventof fire.
"My good man," she said, "I have taken the liberty of asking you to comehere to tell me what I should do to guard against fire in future."
Joe rubbed his nose and looked at the ground; then he stroked his chinand looked at the old lady; then a look of intelligence lighted up hisexpressive countenance as he said abruptly--
"Is yer house an' furniture insured, ma'am?"
"No, it is not," replied Mrs Denman. "I have never insured in my life,because although I hear of fires every day in London, it has neveroccurred to me until lately that there was any probability of _my_ housebeing burned. I know it was very foolish of me, but I shall see tohaving it done directly."
"That's right, ma'am," said Joe, with an approving nod. "If you seedthe heaps an' heaps o' splendid furnitur' an' goods an' buildin's as isburnt every day a'most in London, an' lost to the owners 'cause theygrudged the few shillin's of insurance, or 'cause they was careless an'didn't b'lieve a fire would ever come to them, no matter how many mightcome to other folk, you'd insure yer house an' furnitur' first thing i'the mornin', ma'am."
"I have no doubt you say what is quite correct, Mr Corney, and I willcertainly attend to this matter in future; but I am more particularlyanxious to know how I should act if the house in which I live were totake fire."
"Get out of it as fast as possible," said Joe promptly, "an' screech out_fire_! till yer sides is sore."
"But suppose," said Mrs Denman, with a faint smile, "that the fire isburning in the stair, and the house full of smoke, what am I to do?"
"Och! I see yer drift now, ma'am," said Joe, with a knowing look. "Avit's that what ye wants to know, I'll just, with your lave, ma'am, giveye a small discourse on the subjic'."
Joe cleared his throat, and began with the air of a man who knows whathe is talking about.
"It's as well, ma'am, to begin by tryin' to prevent yer house ketchin'fire--prevention bein' better nor cure. If ye'd kape clear o' that,there's two or three small matters to remimber. First of all, takeoncommon good care o' your matches, an' don't let the childer git at'em, if you've any in the house. Would you believe it, ma'am, there wasabove fifty fires in London last year that was known to ha' bin setalight by childers playin' wid matches, or by careless servants lettin''em drop an' treadin' on 'em?"
"How many?" asked Mrs Denman in surprise.
"Fifty, ma'am."
"Dear me! you amaze me, fireman; I had supposed there were not so manyfires in London in a year."
"A year!" exclaimed Joe. "Why, there's nearly three fires, on theaverage, every twinty-four hours in London, an' that's about a thousandfires in the year, ma'am."
"Are you sure of what you say, fireman?"
"Quite sure, ma'am; ye can ax Mr Braidwood if ye don't b'lieve me."
Mrs Denman, still in a state of blank amazement, said that she did notdoubt him, and bade him go on.
"Well, then," resumed Joe, "look well arter yer matches, an' niver readin bed; that's the way hundreds o' houses get a light. When you light acandle with a bit o' paper, ma'am, don't throw it on the floor an' trampon it an' think it's out, for many a time there's a small spark left,an' the wind as always blows along the floor sets it up an' it kitchessomethin', and there you are--blazes an' hollerin' an' ingins goin' fullswing in no time. Then, ma'am, never go for to blow out yer gas, an' ifthere's an escape don't rest till ye get a gasfitter and find it out.But more particularly don't try to find it yerself with a candle. Och!if ye'd only seen the blows up as I've seen from gas, ye'd look betterarter it. Not more nor two weeks gone by, ma'am, we was called toattend a fire which was caused by an escape o' gas. W'en we got therethe fire was out, but sitch a mess you niver did see. It was a house,ma'am, in the West End, with the most illigant painted walls andcornices and gimcracks, idged all with goold. The family had just gotinto it--noo done up for 'em, only, by good luck, there wasn't much o'the furnitur' in. They had smelled a horrid smell o' gas for a goodwhile, but couldn't find it. At last the missis, she goes with aworkman an a _candle_ to look for it, an' sure enough they found it in abathroom. It had been escapin' in a small closet at the end o' thebath, and not bein' able to git out, for the door was a tight fit, ithad gone away an' filled all the space between the ceilin's an' floors,an' between the lath, and plaster, and the walls. The moment the doorin the bath-room was opened all this gas took light an' blowed up likegunpowder. The whole inner skin o' the beautiful drawing-room, ma'am,was blowed into the middle of the room. The cook, who was in thedrawin'-room passage, she was blow'd down stairs; the workman as openedthe little door, he was blow'd flat on his back; an' the missis, as wasstandin' with her back to a door, she was lifted off her legs and blow'dright through the doorway into a bedroom."
"Gracious!" exclaimed the horrified Mrs Denman, "was she killed?"
"No, ma'am, she warn't killed. Be good luck they was only stunned an'dreadful skeared, but no bones was broken."
Mrs Denman found relief in a sigh.
"Well, ma'am," continued Joe, "let me advise you to sweep yer chimleysonce a month. When your chimley gets afire the sparks they get out, andwhen sparks get out of a windy night there's no tellin' what they won'tlight up. It's my opinion, ma'am, that them as makes the laws shouldmore nor double the fines for chimleys goin' afire. Bu
t suppose, ma'am,your house gets alight in spite of you--well then, the question iswhat's best to do?"
Mrs Denman nodded her old head six or seven times, as though to say,"That is precisely the question."
"I'll tell you, ma'am,"--here Joe held up the fore-finger of his righthand impressively. "In the first place, every one in a house ought toknow all the outs and ins of it, 'cause if you've got to look for thingsfor the first time when the cry of `Fire' is raised, it's not likelythat you'll find 'em. Now, d'ye know, or do the servants know, or doesanybody in the house know, where the trap in the roof is?"
Mrs Denman appeared to meditate for a minute, and then said that shewas not sure. She herself did not know, and she thought the servantsmight be ignorant on the point, but she rather thought there was an oldone in the pantry, but they had long kept a cat, and so didn't requireit.
"Och!" exclaimed Joe, with a broad grin, "sure it's a trap-door I'mspakin' of."
Mrs Denman professed utter ignorance on this point, and when told thatit ought to be known to every one in the house as a mode of escape inthe event of fire, she mildly requested to know what she would have todo if there were such a trap.
"Why, get out on the roof to be sure," (Mrs Denman shivered) "and getalong the tiles to the next house," (Mrs Denman shut her eyes andshuddered) "an' so make yer escape. Then you should have a ladder fixedto this trap-door so as it couldn't be took away, and ye should havesome dozen fathoms o' half-inch rope always handy, cause if ye was cutoff from the staircase by fire an' from the roof by smoke ye might haveto let yourself down from a windy. It's as well, too, to know how toknot sheets and blankets together, so that the ties won't slip, for ifyou have no rope they'd be better than nothin'. You should also have ahand-pump, ma'am, and a bucket of water always handy, 'cause if you takea fire at the beginnin' it's easy put out. An' it's as well to knowthat you should go into a room on fire on your hands and knees, withyour nose close to the ground--just as a pinter-dog goes--'cause there'smore air there than overhead; an' it's better to go in wi' the hand-pumpthe first thing. Don't wait to dress, ma'am."
"Stop, stop, Mr Corney!" cried Mrs Denman, holding up her hand.
The little lady was stunned with the rapid utterance of the enthusiasticfireman, and with the dreadful suggestion that she, Mrs Denman, should,in the dead of night, get upon the roof of her dwelling and scrambleover the tiles, or let herself down by a rope from a window into thepublic street, or creep into a burning room on her hands and knees withher nose to the ground like a pointer, and all this, too, in hernight-dress, so she begged of him to stop, and said:
"But you forget, fireman, it is impossible for _me_ to do any of thesedreadful things."
"Well, ma'am," returned Joe coolly, "it wouldn't be easy--though, forthe matter o' that, it's wonderful what people will do for their lives;but I was tellin' ye, ma'am, what ought to be done, so as somebody elsein the house might do it, if you couldn't.
"But suppose, ma'am," continued Joe, without waiting for a reply;"suppose that the house is alight. Well, the first thing you've got todo, is not to get into a fluster. That can't do no good, you know, andis sure to do mischief. Keep cool. That's the first thing, ma'am; andbe deliberate in all ye do. The second thing is, to wrap a blanketround ye, an' get out of the house as fast as ye can without stoppin' todress. It's of no use lookin' put out, ma'am; for it's better to escapewithout yer clo'es than to be burnt alive in 'em. Then be careful to_shut all doors after ye_ as ye go. This keeps the air from gittin' atthe fire, and so smothers it down till the ingines come up. Also keepall windows shut. If the smoke is like to choke ye, git yer nose asnear the ground as possible, an' go along on yer hands and knees. A bito' flannel or a worsted sock held over yer mouth an' nose, will help youto bear it better.
"If ye can't escape by the street-door, or the trap in the roof, thenget into a front room, where you will be more easy to be got at widladders or fire-escapes, an' see that _every mimber o' the household_ isthere. Many a wan has bin forgotten in the hurry-skurry of a fire, andleft asleep in bed, ignorant o' the danger till too late; when a coolhead might have missed 'em, and wakened 'em in time. Whatever ye do,ma'am--keep cool."
The probability of poor Mrs Denman keeping cool in such circumstanceswas uncommonly small; for she was at that moment hot all over, and herface flushed at the mere recital of such horrors!
Joe then went on to state, that the very last thing she should do was tojump from a window (a somewhat unnecessary piece of advice, poor MissDenman thought), and that, when she was compelled to take such a step,she should first of all pitch over all the blankets and bedding shecould lay hold of to make her fall easy. He wound up with an emphaticreiteration of the assurance that her only chance lay in "keeping cool."
That night, poor Mrs Denman, in a condition of mind that is utterlyindescribable, because inconceivable, went through the whole of thedreadful processes which Joe had described; and did it, too, withmiraculous presence of mind and energy--in her dreams.